Trust Him?
by wrongturn
Summary: SLASH! During their Hogwart’s pre-war training Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are to trust and protect each other, three “ridiculous” lessons a week. Throughout the curriculum, the boys will learn deception, sacrifice, and ultimately, love.((HD))Mwah
1. Harry vs the Alphabet

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter nor any other of the characters mentioned belong to me, but are sole property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury and anyone else who makes money off of her. This peice of fanfiction was created for the purpose of free entertainment and no claim or inclination is being made that this has been written for any other reasons not stated (sentence two, words 6 - 12.) 

(I have always wanted to write a worthless DISCLAIMER longer than my story.)

**Chapter one:** Harry vs. the Alphabet. Pretty Boy's goin' down. 

It was the summer of '96 and they knew the war was coming and they knew the couldn't stop it. Instead, they prepared for it. Each wizarding household received a copy of "How to Protect Your Family When You're About to Die": but that was only the first step. More safety precautions not unlike the ones Hogwart's had once been under when a certain Azkaban escapee had threatened it, were planned to be evoked. 

Speaking of Hogwart's, it was not yet common knowledge that since the failure to find a teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts, that class had been cancelled and replaced by another class. But then there was more whispering than speaking. _Don't tell them, they'll find out soon enough._

Many eccentric, although unaccredited Warlocks had sat on hard, straight backed chairs and thought up the most fear-inspiring title "Pre-War Training Courses" and everything in the class that came with it. Nevertheless, just because the bone chilling name, some _nosey_ ministry workers regarded it as _Defence Against the Dark Arts Renamed; _but it was really rather different. 

For example, Training Course Ex. R V1 77: The Killing Course. 

Unfortunately, because of the brutality of that one, it had been reluctantly cut from the training programme altogether. And despite that, many more "useless schemes" (as they had been branded by the teachers) were still in place. Old Fudge blew up every time the subject was brought up for any other reason than to praise him, so you better not say anything. 

He felt that it was his own integrity being questioned, though his assistants assured him they would never do that! (Whilst reminding themselves to shut up, they had families to feed.) 

Some of the students already knew, of course. Take Draco Malfoy for example. Surprises were banned; No One should be able to take a Malfoy for surprise! Even his birthday presents had what was inside them written neatly on the label. So naturally his father had informed him at once. A lot of filthy activities he was supposed to endure to see what sort of tactics the mudblood loving side would be using. 

He was told to expect shit. 

However, at the announcement those kept completely in the dark and marginally, there was quite a lot of them (not in Slytherin, Draco noted) and a shiver of excitement was sent through the room. The blond expected it to be exorcised as the explanation went on but nobody seemed to care there would be three hours a week of physically gruelling tasks with other houses! 

Malfoy's eyes strayed towards the tousled haired boy at the Gryffindor table exchanging glances with that insufferable Weasley and Mudblood. He wanted to see Potter's reaction, to see if he had known, and to judge by the way his brow crinkled and his eyes burned with dark realisation, he hadn't. 

Draco had never seen that look before, and it gave Potter quite a becoming sinister edge. He tore his eyes away in case any of the drooling Hufflepuff's noticed the direction of his gaze and realised it was more a lustful, more than a I-hope-you-drop-down-dead-right-know-or-something-extremely-heavy-falls-on-you look he was shooting towards the Gryffindor table. 

_Even the fucking Longbottom boy looks excited!_

Draco's mouth curled into a grin. He said silently, _Prepare to be disappointed, boys. War is not pretty._

The ceiling of the great hall glinted delightfully and the other Slytherin's eyes shared the same malicious glint that weren't stars reflected from the ceiling, with smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes. 

x 

x 

x 

Tuesday morning, just after Charms, found Harry Potter and Ron Weasley lining up out side their Transfiguration classroom. Their pre-war training was to be conducted by professor McGonagall and, with a sinking felling in Harry's heart, the… 

Ron said, looking as annoyed as Harry was uneasy, "Slytherin's." 

During the holidays Mr Weasley and Bill had dropped hints to what was in store, just like that summer when Ireland won the Quidditch World Cup. Do you remember? Fred and George made that bet with Bagman and all they got was fools gold. God, it feels so long ago now… Don't you remember? 

Except these hints, this time, had lacked the same enthusiasm Percy and everyone had when they dropped them. Mr Weasley and his son were positively _worried_. And for good reason. 

Harry saw Malfoy sauntering arrogantly with his faithful little Slytherin's behind him. He hadn't missed the look the blond had worn during the Welcome Feast. However this time the Slytherin was not allowed to let the pleasurable thought of the whole rooms demise show so freely on his aristocratic features. Instead, as usual, he sneered. 

He spared Harry a glance and that was it. The boy couldn't tell much from a glance. All except Malfoy had not loss any sleep over the brewing war since it was announced the previous year, and had, if possible, become more egotistical. Kindly, or unkindly, McGonagall saved him from any further scrutinising. 

"Inside, inside!" 

Harry and Ron sat near the front, since the Slytherin's had taken the back. Truth be told, the class had been split up by gender and there were less that a handful of Slytherin's there. Still, the Gryffindor boys preferred to sit as far away as possible. 

During the first forty minutes professor McGonagall managed to explain they would have one partner, and one partner only--unless they were in a three of course, as there was an uneven number of people, and during these exercises they had to put their trust in that person. Harry played with the stray thread off the hems of his robes. He should get new robes… 

She'd said severely, "One person." 

But she managed to explain that in a amazingly long length of time. 

And during her forty minute explanation she unnerved Harry by staring straight at him which brought him to the conclusion she must have some horrible, ghastly fate in store for him. One could say, she probably did. 

This was why, instead of an hour, her very well planned out explanation only lasted forty minutes. Minerva McGonagall made the fatal mistake of reading out the pairs more than a minute before the bell. 

"I have partnered you up alphabetically," she'd said, "except for Zabini, who was the odd one out." She looked down her nose at the neatly written list. "Pair One: Crabbe, Finnegan. Pair two: Zabini, Goyle and Longbottom." No one heard Neville whimper. Seamus licked his lips. He knew where this was going; the whole room knew where this was going, and McGonagall spoke a little hesitantly because of the palpable anticipation in there air. "Malfoy and… Potter." 

"HA!" 

"_MR_ FINNEGAN!" Minerva hissed in white lipped outrage. She shot up straight from her perch against the desk and glared at the boy. Far from withering under her glare, Seamus continued his interruptions. And Ron joined in. 

"Professor, Malfoy will _kill_ Harry!" 

Seamus agreed. "Yeah professor! Do you want Harry to _die_? Malfoy will eat him alive!" 

_"I am here you know!"_

Seamus continued, "Professor, Harry will be killed!" 

It was about time Malfoy joined in, Harry thought irritably. _Why was he just sitting watching them insult him? Oh, yeah. He probably doesn't want to work with me, either._ Harry blushed slightly at his dimwittedness. 

Malfoy said to the onslaught of slander without even rising from his chair, "I'm sure the fucking Boy Who Lived can hold his own." 

Ron and Seamus fell silent, and so did the class putting bets on who would try and attack the precious little Slytherin first, but only because they were expecting McGonagall to curse Malfoy into oblivion for swearing so freely. However, she did nothing. And Harry had never fallen quiet in the first place. 

_"Don't call me that!"_

"That's who you are." 

_"You don't know me!"_

There's always that feeling where hostility is almost tangible when you're around those two. Draco's face was starting to show feelings through his mask--albeit anger but still feelings all the same and Harry's eyes were burning through him. Draco willed him to look away. 

"I know enough, Potter." 

The Slytherin rose gracefully, strode towards Harry, never braking eye contact and Harry walked to meet him. A battle of the wills, five years of hatred, and actions that said everything and words that carved them deeper. They stopped just before they touched each other, face to face, so close but never making contact. Electricity crackled and the class did all the could do by just holding their breaths like the bystanders they were brought up to be. Harry tilted his head up only slightly to meet Draco's eyes, he could make out every eyelash. 

He'd never stood so intimately with someone and to do it with Draco Malfoy… Well. 

The room never moved, nobody breathed or they might have tasted another feeling in the air along with hate that nobody could recognise unless you could look straight into Harry Potter's or Draco Malfoy's eyes. Slowly, Draco drew his wand and pointed it at Harry's throat. 

He leant only a bit forwards, his breath warming Harry's neck and the stray hair around his ear flutting, but only a bit. The tip of the wand grazed Harry's neck. Malfoy could do anything. If he chose to kill him he could do so quite easily. Still, Harry made no inclination he was backing down but briefly wondering why, when they wanted the same thing, did their wills always _clash_? And Draco spoke, his words low but sure and measured. 

_"Potter,"_ drawled the Slytherin Prince, _"do you trust me?"_

x 

x 

x  
  
** . . .**? Be nice. :)


	2. Not so rigid

No slash this chapter, my lovlies. :( I promise you next chapter, which I can probably get up soon if I'm not such a lazyass. :D

**Chapter Two: Not So Rigid, this Time, Please**

**Curt:** We set out to change the world... ended up just changing ourselves.  
**Arthur:** What's wrong with that?  
**Curt:** Nothing...if you don't look at the world. -- _Velvet Goldmine_

-

"Alright Mr Malfoy, Mr Potter. That is quite enough!"

Harry had almost forgotten there were other people in the room which made McGonagall's outburst a sharp jolted back to reality. He'd felt like he and Malfoy were the only people there and the taste of that was quite addictive, the Gryffindor decided. Malfoy lowered his wand slowly, his eyes were unreadable but something said to Harry, taunted him restlessly with the tuneless verse; _Malfoy won, Malfoy won, Malfoy won!_

Ron said with disbelief, "Aren't you going to _do_ anything? Malfoy tried to _kill_ Harry!"

"I should give all four of you detention for disrupting my class," she said shortly, looking down at her notes unsatisfied. "You and Mr Finnegan do not run Mr Potter's life, may I add. And, Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy next time, please play your games elsewhere. There is no time for it in my classroom." Right on cue after her closing sentence the bell rang. "There is no homework for today. Dismissed."

The class filed out but Harry hung back. It was a game, wasn't it? The game had been played for more than five years now and he was hooked. The thrill of the chase, didn't they call it? Of course, Harry was certainly not going to admit he was intoxicated by _anyone_. But what was it then, that always managed to draw them together? Its like dancing with the devil in disguise when you'd already watched him put on his costume.

But then again, he was used to his life hanging in the balance.

Anyway. Ron would be waiting for him outside when he noticed he wasn't there, and now Harry wasn't sure why he was _still_ here. A stupor, he supposed, but refused to note a reason for it.

Originally he'd planned to ask McGonagall if he could just switch partners but now after the commotion and _still_ being paired with Malfoy it seemed pointless. McGonagall noticed him stood behind his desk in personal debate so she decided to help him out.

She said, "Potter I have no sympathy just because the alphabet works against you. Now, if you don't mind I have to fill in a review for the Minister of how well the lesson went. Or," she added and the corner of her thin lips tipped up though she tried to stop it, "how well it didn't."

Harry stood there dumbly with an equally dumb impression of a fish out of water. McGonagall took no more notice of him as she summed up the lesson with colourful adjectives such as 'disastrous' and 'catastrophic'. He left wondering whether Seamus and Ron were making a big deal out of nothing. _All he did was put a wand at your throat,_ his Sarcastic Voice of Mind said. _Gryffindors, eh? So melodramatic. After all, it was only after he heard he was partnering you. Wonder what he'll do when he actually has to work with you_!

Ron met him in the dimly lit corridor and they headed past suits of armour towards the Great Hall. "Bloody bastard!" the fiery redhead snarled. "He tried to bloody kill you and he got off with a slapped wrist!"

Harry said wearily, "You don't know he was going to kill me."

"Doesn't she know pairing you two up is like trying to kiss a bludger? She's off her nut!"

"Maybe she's still mad about that late essay."

When explained to Hermione, she said; "Oh, you two and your theories! Don't be ridiculous. I would have thought it was _obvious_, personally."

Harry shot a glance at Ron. The redhead was sitting next to Hermione on the opposite side of the table but it didn't seem to make any different to being able to read her thoughts whether you were almost on top of each other or a million miles away. Ron shrugged and said after he swallowed his food, "actually, McGonagall _was_ giving Harry the eye."

"That's because she was telling you all to _trust_ each other!" said Hermione hopelessly. "It could have been a warning. Or did you two turn up late? No, from what Harry has told us, McGonagall is hoping whatever could go wrong, will go wrong. What is more disastrous than trying to get Harry and Malfoy to trust each other?" Ron made rather loud noises of agreement at that, to which Harry said nothing. "It's the perfect lesson destroyer if you ask me."

"Why?"

Nobody was listening to their conversation. Mostly they were just howling with outrage at being paired with Slytherin ("_Slytherin_! Of all the other houses,_ Slytherin_!") or otherwise fighting over the mashed potatoes.

Harry said, "Are you trying to say McGonagall's a…" he glanced around, "A You-Know-What? You remember what happened the last time we accused a teacher of that!"

"No Harry! God, no! She's not trying to ruin the lessons because she wants us to be unprepared for the war completely, most likely she feels they're worthless skills. One, because Cornelius Fudge agrees with them, and two, we're just teaching them to You-Know-What in training anyway!"

Ron and Harry chorused, "Yeah."

Ron spooned some more mashed potatoes on his plate thoughtfully (he'd managed to seize the bowl although now his knuckles were aching). "So, McGonagall's a Deatheater?"

His announcement caused quite a ruckus. Lucky for him there was so much of an uproar nobody could really remember who said it first. Although those that might have known may have conveniently forgotten because of their loyalty to Ron Weasley. Wink, wink.

-

Thursday morning they entered the transfiguration to find all the desks had been moved and the classroom was empty. Far from the truth was Seamus howls of "We've been robbed!" but instead McGonagall instructed them to sit on the floor and explained to them about starting of with "trust activities".

First they were to fall and let their partners catch them. (Seamus wasn't laughing now. His partner was Crabbe.) After they had practised and she had watched until satisfied, they could move on to supporting each other (Seamus went a few shades paler) and then finally, bandaging.

Draco and Harry stood awkwardly in the corner of the room. McGonagall barked at them to get working.

"Go on then, Potter," he drawled and held his arms out rather limply. "Fall, then."

"Why don't you?" Harry mirrored the pathetic support pose Draco had adopted.

The didn't notice McGonagall stride over until she said, "_One_ of you must fall."

Harry and Draco both looked at her, _"He will drop me, stupid."_ emphasized by their withering expressions.

"Don't give me those looks. Malfoy, fall into Potter's arms."

_"What."_

"You can "what" me until the end of the lesson, Mr Malfoy, but you two are going to start putting your trust in each other whether you like it or not. I did not make up these… _lessons... _but I have to teach them. Now you will fall and Potter will catch you, understand?"

Swearing under his breath, Malfoy fell back into Harry's arms but McGonagall wasn't impressed. She said, "Do it again. This time without putting your foot back for support or what's the point of having Potter catch you?"

They tried it about four or five times, each time Malfoy held rigid, putting his foot back, not trusting Harry to catch. No one could blame him, what with their history, however, McGonagall kept pushing.

"And again."

Still, no result.

"I'm not going to drop you!" Harry snapped after they tried it a couple more times. "Just _relax_!"

Malfoy wasn't heavy at all. But then again he was a seeker and they were usually lightweights, but nonetheless Harry's arms were getting tired. Even so, when you thought about it; giving yourself up defencelessly to your worst enemy was kind of a fools errand. But it still frustrated Harry to no end.

"Well you do it then!"

"Fine!"

He did it. McGonagall brought him down. She said, "Not so rigid, this time, please."

Harry stared at her. "I just did it!" Honestly, he didn't want to go back in Malfoy's arms. It gave him a strange almost unpleasant but-not-quite feeling he was afraid he might feel again. And recognise it for what it was.

"Again, please, Mr Potter."

Harry stood with his back to Malfoy and made his body forget all the tension at McGonagall's command. He forgot he hated Malfoy and believed in him like he hadn't believed since the first day they met. He stopped worrying and was just falling into his enemies arms. He knew why this was a trust exercise, alright. If Malfoy decided to move away, he could seriously injure himself.

Malfoy caught him under the arms. He looked down at Potter who was noticeable a few shades paler, his head resting against Malfoy's rising chest.

"You look as if you though I'd drop you."

-

Hermione was in a considerably bad mood when they met her at break time. She said, "They're teaching us to be _nurses_ Nurses can you believe? Talk about sexism! Lavender tried to bandage my leg up and she put so many knots in it she cut off the circulation!" she took a long drag of air. "I can see why the teachers don't believe in it!"

They were walking the Hogwart's grounds among the autumn leaves. Their robes were pulled tight around them, hands buried deep inside their pockets against the cold weather and breath billowing out in front of them like fog coming back to claw at their faces.

"Yeah," said Harry glumly and half-heartedly agreed with her. To tell the truth, he was in deep thought about the look Malfoy was giving him as he looked down at him while Harry's breath slowed and the butterflies in his stomach fluttered away. He was sure the Slytherin Prince felt the electricity too--but maybe he hadn't. Thing were just so agonisingly unsure… The ambiguity was killing him. "Malfoy and I had to do the three trust exercise and we didn't get past the first one."

Hermione laughed. "Well it is Malfoy, isn't it? You're never going to trust him."

Harry didn't point out that he _had_ trusted Malfoy. He'd let himself go and Malfoy had been there to catch him. Of course, just catching Harry when he was instructed wasn't enough to erase five years of relentless torture, but it was something to wonder about.

Back in the real world, Ron was bragging about completing all three exercises. He and Dean had not passed with flying colours, but he had been careful to miss that detail out. What did it matter how bad he performed? He'd beaten Harry for once!

"Its not fair," Hermione sighed. "You get to do all the interesting stuff. Well," she raised her eyebrows. "Ron has fun and you're put through hell, but I'm sure it can't be that bad. It _is_ only three hours a week, after all. Is it that bad, Harry?"

So many answers rushed into his head all at once. Really, what was he supposed to say?

"God, it was so bad I could kill myself."

"I'd rather work with Snape."

"Well, falling into Malfoy's arms is quite nice, actually."

"Now I can see why he has half the school pining after him."

"You think I'm just falling into Malfoy? Try falling for him!"

_Where the hell did that come from?_ He tried to shake the feeling, but inside of panicking, he felt a feeling of amusement creep up after his earlier shock. Could they tell what he was thinking? he wondered, and smiled crookedly at thought that they maybe could. It looked more like a grimace.

Ron had never won any awards for being observant but Hermione had been nominated. "Harry," she said. "Are you alright? There's no colour left in you. Do you need Madame Pomfrey?"

Ron said, "He probably forgot to do Snape's essay."

"Yeah, yeah." Harry resisted the urge to back away from them and go sort his head out. How could he find falling for Malfoy _amusing_ of all things? "Just… potions. Snape, you know… Course I'm okay."

Instead of sprinted towards the castle, he swallowed and walked along in silent contemplation with Hermione and Ron and tried to reason introduce some reason into his thoughts. Harry insisted that just because the Slytherin himself had had a string of female _and _male relationships in the past, _didn't_ mean he was attracted to every guy that fell into his arms! And it _certainly _didn't mean that he was even _capable _for falling for the Golden Boy, Gryffindor Hero.

A chill wind lifted their hair and swayed them off course. Harry shivered and pulled his robes closer, but the other two carried on talking. Almost bickering but not quite.

And anyway, he debated, even he if _was_ attracted to Malfoy - hypothetically speaking, of course, Ron and Hermione would probably go crazy. _Not that there was anything wrong with swinging that way,_ he backtracked hastily, in case Seamus could read minds as well. That boy was notoriously bisexual and probably felt the same way about Malfoy as Harry did.

_Stop it._

His thoughts strayed back to their last lesson and he wondered how long Malfoy had held him without saying another word after his wisecrack. Annoyance stabbed at him. Why should he care that Malfoy had the nicest eyes he'd ever seen, anyway? He'd noticed that the day Malfoy had put his wand at Harry's neck, and the Gryffindor had found out what it felt like to be close to the Slytherin Prince and it tipped his own world out of balance. And he hadn't even touched him. Harry resented him for it.

He touched the place on his throat like he could feel the tip of Malfoy's want burning ownership on it. Harry shook his head, a wry smile forming on his lips. If he managed some self-control, things might not actually turn out as bleak as they seemed at first thought. This gave Harry some hope. Yes, it was going to be okay. As long as he didn't act on anything. _Right._

Hermione's voice floated in his head. _"It is only three hours a week, after all."_

But three hours a week really _was_ along time.

**...**


End file.
